The forgotten carnage

(The author, former Sen. Eddie Ilarde, is one of the victims of the Plaza Miranda bombing during the proclamation rally of the Liberal Party for the 1971 elections. The following article is a brief first-person account of what happened that night when two grenades were lobbed on the stage wounding and killing many, mostly in the audience.)

THAT night (August 21, 1971) Plaza Miranda was “filled to the rafters.” It was the much-awaited proclamation rally of the Liberal Party candidates for senator and the local candidates of Manila. The crowd overflowed into the adjoining Quezon Boulevard and spilled farther into the other smaller streets leading to the plaza. The windows of the buildings around were like opera boxes, with patrons eagerly looking down at the stage. Media accounts later said Plaza Miranda never had such a huge crowd.

The whole country was eager to hear the anti-Marcos candidates reveal “terrible secrets of corruption and thievery” – the much-talked-about case of the Golden Buddha, a huge image of the Buddha made of pure gold, hollow but filled with gold and diamonds – a Yamashita treasure – allegedly seized by Marcos from a Rogelio Roxas, the supposed founder, was going to be revealed for the first time. Our senatorial teams KIMM – for Kalaw, Ilarde, Magsaysay (Gene), and Mitra – and POSS – for Pendatun, Osmeña (John), Salonga, and Singson (Melanio) – were each given “exposé assignments” for our speeches. Bomba or fiery political discourses never fail to amuse and mesmerize audiences; they always attract large crowds especially in proclamation rallies. That night the atmosphere was electric, the politicians and the audience, high-spirited.

The motorcade with all the candidates left the “White House” of Gerry Roxas in Quezon City at around 6:30. The convoy moved in an orderly manner as originally planned until we reached Aurora Boulevard. From there the motorcade split up and scattered, everyone went his own way. We took the Legarda St. route as assigned but we were caught in heavy traffic on the approach to Azcarraga St. (now Claro M. Recto Ave.). We opened the car radio and heard a tumultuous crowd, cheering wildly as the emcee announced: “… dumarating… ang walang kupas na senador… man of the masses… si Gene Magsaysay!” Dismayed, I turned to my wife Sylvi and said: “See? That man of the masses was supposed to be next to our car, there he is winning the race to the rally! Here we are following the rules and in a mess.” She squeezed my hand and said, “Relax Daddy, we’ll be there in a minute.” I turned to Mario Aldeguer, one of my close-in security who was driving me that night and told him: “Mario, tutal bukas pa ng madaling araw kami tatawaging magsalita nina Ninoy at Jovy Salonga, tayo munang bumalik sa Makati at may natitira pang kalderetang kambing ubusin natin.” Suddenly Sylvi was emphatic, “Don’t do that! Everyone will be on stage except you? Baka isiping nagnanakaw ka ng eksena. No Mario! Proceed to Plaza Miranda!” In an ugly mood, I did not say a word after that.

The crowd was so big and from where we stopped about 50 meters from the stage, people could barely see the huge stage facing Quezon Boulevard. The cheering was frenetic as when we heard it a kilometer away before we stopped. I turned to Senen Romero and Eugenio Orbon, my personal security details, and asked, “Can you get me and Sylvi through that crowd?” Before they could answer, I was grabbed and carried by the people on their shoulders toward the stage. Before I knew it, I was climbing the stairs to the stage. I waved to the crowd and looked for my assigned seat. Sonny Osmeña on the right side of the stage motioned me to sit beside him. When I sat down, he whispered to me that I was supposed to sit at the opposite end. “So what am I doing here, Sonny?” “That’s okay, Ed,” he said jokingly. “Ayaw ni Sali dito. Gusto niya, doon sa kabila, katabi ng kapwa niya matatanda.”

I was at once bothered by one thing at that moment which I cannot forget up to now. I stood up to measure the crowd once more, intrigued by many spotlights all positioned in front of the stage, wondering why the lights were so strong and blinding, we barely saw anything in front despite such a large crowd. Being used to television lighting for many years, we found it rather odd and abnormal – a spotlight directly into our eyes that we cannot discern clearly what’s in front of us. Right then and there I told myself that whoever was the lightman must be one who does not know what he has done. I asked Roberto Tubig, one of my men to look for Mario Garcia or Eli Aligora who was with ABS-CBN Radyo Patrol covering the event so I can asked them about the blinding lights thinking that it must have been placed for the TV cameras. Robert told me later he could not find either Mario or Eli.

We suddenly dismissed that concern when all the local candidates of Manila, led by mayoralty candidate Ramon Bagatsing stood up to be proclaimed by LP President Gerardo Roxas. It was quite a sight when all the candidates raised their arms together in the traditional political manner, signaling formal proclamation. The loud cheers of the crowd reverberated, a sound never before heard in Plaza Miranda. Then as if on signal by a conductor, all the people on the ground simultaneously turned their backs from the stage to watch a huge tower-like structure behind where the fireworks display was set-off; a large wheel decorated with eye-catching kaleidoscope of multi-colored lights began to spin and fireworks rockets were fired, filling the sky with exploding colors, giving the plaza and the whole Quiapo district a carnival atmosphere. I said to myself, this is not a proclamation rally, this is a celebration.

I remember shaking Martin Isidro’s hand and signaling a handshake to Mel Lopez who was at the other end of the stage. I repaired to my seat and was about to sit down when a terribly loud explosion occurred just a few feet from my right. The impact threw me off-balance and on my way down my face hit a chair. In a split second, another ear splitting explosion came from the middle of the stage. I blacked out briefly and came to very suddenly. I remember holding my head when I came to, not knowing why. What flashed into my mind was to feel my body instinctively, knowing something terrible had just happened. I took a deep breath and very quickly my attention was diverted to what was happening around me. It seemed all hell had broken loose, as people scampered in all direction.

I was suddenly engulfed by deafening yells and screams of women and children I wanted to shout something I did not know what. I stood up but my right foot gave way; I fell back on the floor and instinctively tried to hold it. I saw the heel of my foot twisted to the front, the tip touching my leg behind. There was no pain, no blood and when I tried to put it in place it felt like I was holding a bag of pebbles crushing against each other. When I let go, my right foot dropped to the floor, this time in a pool of blood. I felt shivery and told myself that I had lost a leg.